


Voltron Spooky Games Works

by adverbialstarlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:19:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: Aka I'm anxious and don't like to fight tumblr so i'm putting all the trash I write for this on AO3 so I can just drop a link for my submissions





	1. R1

**Author's Note:**

> this trash was figured out with a random choice picker, which decided on Lotor celebrating Thanksgiving. I could've gone with crack or with directionless angst guess which one I chose

The irony of it all was laughable. Considering that his father had been a senator for six years and his father had been immigrants from some small south European country, one would expect Lotor’s family to be one that cared about Thanksgiving at least a little bit. It celebrated the beginning of the colony that would become the United States and supposedly immigrants, entirely fitting the criteria of what one would assume the family valued. And yet here they were--  it was November twenty second, the oven was cold, the large mansion unmoving as ever, and not another person in sight as Lotor strode through the empty hallways.

His father didn’t give a damn about trivial holidays like Thanksgiving.

And usually, Lotor was fine with that. He’d go on like it was a normal day and take a walk in the forest or go hang out with his friend Acxa. Her family would give him a biscuit and they’d play video games in Acxa’s room for a few hours before Lotor went home.

This year though, Acxa was not his friend-- nor was Ezor, Zethrid, or Narti, really-- and Lotor was alone. He would not have a place to go, anyone to welcome him with warm arms and a genuinely welcoming smile.

Solitude was nothing new, or so Lotor thought. He’d never been close to his father, more of a liability that never quite met his expectations, and his mother had died long ago so there was never a blood family to go to. But what he did have was friends, friends that cared and supported him and would always welcome him into their homes when he found himself freezing outside on holidays meant for family and celebration and light. It was something that Lotor had always taken for granted, he believed that they’d be there forever. And they were for a while, until they weren’t.

Now he was truly alone, aimlessly wandering in the streets and not bothering to see where he was headed. What did it matter anyway? Even if he got lost his phone could map a way back. His parents didn’t really care where he was right now, even if he came home at three in the morning, stumbling through the door reeking of weed and alcohol they wouldn’t even spare him a glance. After the fallout he’d had with his friends, they would not go out and look for him or invite him over.

It was supposed to be a day of gratitude, of appreciating the non material things that brought you joy, and this time Lotor did not have a single thing to add to his list. No friends, no family that actually cared, just an expensive coat and a heavy wallet, nothing that actually mattered. He supposed he should be grateful for that, for the fact that when he did return to his house that there would be a cook waiting to make him an expensive pork chop for dinner and mindlessly ask how his day was. For the heating in the house, for the holeless soles on his shoes, the prestigious private school that he attended.

And he was, of course he was. Every single day he remembered just how much privilege and opportunity he was given-- when he passed through the neighborhoods of lower income on his way to the bus, when he watched students at school fumble for their reduced lunch cards in the pocket of their faded and baggy khaki uniform pants, when he stood in the back of the church as a classmate sobbed over the open casket holding the body of her father.

Lotor was incredibly lucky, but how come he didn’t feel like it?

Maybe he was being narcissistic, maybe the wealth and esteem of his family had created some mild pretense of sadness. Whatever the case, he did not enjoy it.

There were a few families out at this time, three young children swung on the creaky swings at the small park across the street, two others were on the monkey bars. There was a woman grinning widely at them and shouting bubbly words of encouragement as the girl stretched out to grasp the next bar.

She squealed as her hand missed, squealing when the woman caught her and carried her to the end, where the older girl was waiting. Her mother smiled again, the same sort of smile that Lotor often saw whenever he was with Narti’s parents before they died, and she kissed both girls on the forehead.

Lotor looked away and continued to walk. His pace quickened, desperate to get away soon as possible.

Family. Childhood. Happiness. The quintessential idea of Thanksgiving as a whole. He wanted to understand it, to feel it, but that was impossible when his entire family treated him more like an estranged roommate. They hadn’t even bothered to raise him themselves, instead hiring a nanny who still pestered Lotor today. She was the closest thing that Lotor had now.

There was also his friends at one point, but after what had happened with them there was no chance at reconciliation. So Lotor should not have thought about them anymore, about their friendship that he did not deserve. Perhaps he should have appreciated them more, should have thought before acting. Where would he be now if he had?

But there was no point in fantasizing over the what ifs. Acxa had said enough and they had left him, there was nothing that Lotor could do about it now.

He was alone, and that was how it was going to be for all Thanksgivings to come, for all holidays. And he had no choice but to accept that.


	2. R2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pulled this out of my ass after a bunch of procrastination and it ended up ok and longer. happy Halloween fic ig

When most teenagers say that they’re throwing a Halloween, they mean that they’re going to smuggle a vape and some beer, play shitty rap music and frivolous costumes. But when Pidge and Matt said they were throwing a Halloween party, it meant that they were going to invite their friends to gorge on candy‒ store bought since the neighbors had come to realize that Pidge was not, in fact, a small child trick or treating with her cousins and no longer gave them candy‒ and try to scare each other shitless at random times while watching Mama Mia.

To her, it was an ideal situation and there was nowhere else that she’d rather be on Halloween night. She had never been much of an extrovert, a small group of close friends coming over to play shitty board games and tell awful Halloween puns was enough.

One of the first rules that Pidge and Matt had established when this annual event began was that each guest had to wear a costume, no exceptions. And no matter how much Keith complained about having to get a costume, it was clear how much he enjoyed making them. All of them did, even if some years one person or another showed up in something from Spirit Halloween and was shamed for it in the form of having to perform some stupid task or other. One year Hunk had to eat barbecue sauce mixed with ketchup and rice vinegar. Another, Shiro had to paint two dozen hard boiled eggs in some sort of Halloween themed design in half an hour.

It was momentous as the get together itself, which is why they all sat in a tight circle on the floor of the Holts’ house now, each donning a different, absurd looking costume.

 

Pidge herself was entirely wrapped in Saran Wrap, a few gumdrops scattered among the layers. The costumes didn’t have to be something specific, all that mattered was that it was obscure looking and interesting. Matt was similarly dressed in a plastic rain poncho with gummy bears stitched to it like purse fringe. Beside him was Lance, sporting glittery off-white gogo boots, multiple spaghetti strapped tank tops, and a stack of bangle bracelets that clattered if he simply just breathed. From his ears dangled earrings with even more beads than he had bracelets. On Lance’s other side, Hunk was in full Smurf dress; white powder tinted his black hair, his usual orange bandana was swapped out for one that was red, and his entire face and neck was painted blue. Pidge had laughed for a solid minute when he’d showed up at their door with a plate of cookies and anxious, pleading eyes as neighbors peeked not very stealthily through their blinds. After that was Allura, who wore a regal fur cloak‒ faux, she had been quick to tell them all‒ and sparkly spandex bell bottoms and held an inflatable pink microphone. Then there was Shiro, who seemed to be matching Pidge’s theme of  _ just wrap yourself in some weird shit _ . His arms and legs were wrapped in different colored christmas lights, on his arms green and red and blue and yellow on his legs. It was simplistic, but it was all made up for with the Hello Kitty fanny pack around his waist that was holding the battery cartridge. Keith was on Pidge’s other side, the loser of this year’s costume contest. It seemed that he was hoping that no one would notice his recycled costume. He was dressed Gryffindor Hogwarts robes and a Ravenclaw scarf, the same thing he wore two years before when Hunk had been the one to lose.

“Think you’re clever, eh?” Pidge said to him, her grin mirthful. “Don’t think we didn’t notice your repeat costume, Keith. I admire the effort, but it isn’t new so…” She shrugged, and around them the rest of the group began to grin as well.

“Told you that she’d remember,” muttered Lance.

“Fuck off,” Keith replied.

The other boy shrugged and instead turned back to the Holt siblings. Matt was practically bouncing in his place, and honestly Pidge couldn’t blame him. “Would you like to divulge his challenge?” Lance asked innocently.

Pidge returned the look, pushing off the ground. “Of course,” she said, “Hunk, will you do us the honors?”

“Wait what‒” Keith began, eyes widening when Hunk went over to his jacket and pulled out an opaque box.

“Keith!” Matt cut him off, pulling the younger boy to his feet. “Are you ready for some pain and misery?” He grinned like a gameshow host, gaze still focused on Keith as he held his hand towards Hunk.

Hunk wince sympathetically and placed the box into Matt’s hand. “Sorry buddy,” he said, patting Keith on the shoulder before joining Lance on the couch.

Keith looked to Allura and Shiro, who were not so subtly shoveling handfuls of chocolate into their pockets, but they only shrugged too. Shiro picked up a Snickers bar and tossed it to Keith. He caught it easily and furrowed his brows. “Uh thanks?”

“No problem, I figured you might need it after this,” Shiro shrugged.

“C’mon, Keith, open the box,” Pidge added, “it won’t hurt you.” She turned to her brother and whispered lowly, “unless you’re a wimp who can’t take flavor.”

Matt snickered, pushing Keith’s curiosity over the edge. He pulled off the lid, and Pidge wanted to keep a picture of his expression framed in their living room.

“What the fuck,” he said, pulling out the shriveled red pepper and looking torn between confusion and amusement.

Pidge smiled, pushing him onto the couch as well, perching herself onto the arm. “Well, I’m glad you asked! This is a ghost pepper‒”

“Oh my god,  _ no _ ‒”

“‒it is said to be one of the spiciest in the world‒”

“No, why, who the fuck even came up with this‒”

“‒and  _ you  _ get to eat the entire thing.”

Keith dropped the ghost pepper back into the box and groaned into his knees. Lance snickered as he patted Keith’s head. “There, there, mullet. It’ll be fine… I mean, as long as you aren’t scared to.”

Immediately Keith froze and Lance smirked. Pidge gave him a thumbs up and pulled out her phone. She didn’t even have to say anything for Lance to pick up what she wanted. There was no one who made Keith do incredibly stupid shit more than Lance except maybe Shiro sometimes.

If anyone could get Keith to shove the whole pepper into his mouth in a second, it would be Lance.

His eyes widened when he began to chew, and his irritated expression morphed into a grimace. Matt shook his head when Keith made to spit it out, putting a hand over his mouth without thought. “Nope, sorry dude. Gotta eat it all. Next time bring a new costume and maybe this will be avoided.

With a dour look, Keith swallowed the rest of the pepper nd immediately gagged. “I‒ I hate you all, so,  _ so  _ much,” he wheezed, making a point to glare at each of them individually.

Unpeturbed and wildly amused, Pidge stowed her phone again and picked up the Snickers bar again. “Alright, but people you hate don’t give you candy, do they?” she said liltingly, tossing it between her hands.

Keith rolled his eyes and snatched it from the air, tearing open the wrapper savagely. “I deserved this fucking Snickers,” he mumbled, devouring the entire candybar in two bites.

“Great, now that that’s over, I think it’s time for the movie!” Allura said.

They cheered, and if Keith refused to sing along to Man After Midnight at first, a few Twix bars from Pidge’s personal stash did the trick.


	3. Final Pt 2

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Keith looked up from his computer screen, eyebrows raised at Pidge’s amused expression. It was nine at night, they were in the Holts’ cabin in the middle of a forest in Estes Park and it was pitch black outside. With how many windows there were, it was rather disconcerting especially to Hunk, who had then suggested that they all make a cool playlist of ‘spooky songs’ whatever that was supposed to mean. And so they sat gathered in the living room, curtains drawn and gas fireplace lit doing just that. He said to just add cool and fitting songs to it, and Keith was doing just that. He didn’t see what the problem was.

 

“What?” he asked. “I’m adding music to the playlist.”

 

From his corner of the couch opposite to Keith, Lance snorted, looking up from his own phone screen. “Yeah, music that fourteen year old girls listen to,” he replied.

 

The rest of the group snickered as well. “ _ Ouch,  _ buddy,” Hunk said.

 

Pidge pushed her bangs to the front of her forehead, frowning dramatically and pulling up the hood of her navy blue sweatshirt.

 

“What’re you--” Keith began.

 

She tapped something on her phone and the beginning riffs of My Chemical Romance’s THe Sharpest Lives began to play on the speaker sitting on the coffee table. “Hi, I’m Keith and I’m  _ so  _ emo,” she said in a flat voice. “I listen to MCR and Muse, rawr X-D.”

 

Keith gaped, ears beginning to tint pink. He didn’t act like that, if anyone that would be Pidge. He would not let her forget her intense emo phase of ninth grade. It was even worse than his alleged one, she had it all-- Bring Me the Horizon, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low. And a long shitty haircut best left in 2009. And he had picture evidence. So what if she might then try to blackmail him back.

 

Before he could point that though, the rest of the group burst out into giggles, even Allura was in hysterics. For a straight minute Keith watched in silence as his friends wheezed, fell to the ground, and wiped tears from their eyes.

 

“Ha ha,” he finally said when they had finally calmed down a bit. “I’m so glad that you’re having fun at my expense. Why do I even hang out with you guys again?”

 

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Shiro assented, shrugging when Keith glared. “I mean, Twenty One Pilots, really? Let me guess, you are a smol gay bean and you love your ukulele screamo boys.” The last part was said monotonously. His gaze was flat as he stared at Keith’s expression change first from offended, then to annoyed, and lastly to shocked.

 

A moment later Keith’s foot was swinging at his friend’s head. “You take that back right fucking now,” he said, nearly kicking Shiro’s glasses off of his face. The audicy.

 

“Oh no, run Shiro,” Lance cackled. Without looking away from Shiro, Keith threw a ball of empty Twix wrappers at Lance and smirked when it bounced off of his forehead. Allura let out another snort at that but was quick to scuttle away when Keith turned back to her.

 

Tonight was not going to be another night of make-fun-of-Keith-when-everyone-had-the-exact-same-music-taste. That had already happened the other night, and the one before. Keith didn’t actually mind that much, but all alone in this wretched cabin that seemed to be all his friends wanted to do. There was hiking trails, there was kayaking, board games, even  _ internet _ , and yet.

 

Instead of chasing Shiro around the couch as they expected, Keith took each of their individual Costco-sized bags of candy, first Pidge, then Shiro, Lance, Allura, and finally Hunk’s and bolted. The beginning of the next song, some weird Finnish EDM song Pidge had put on, trailed behind him.

 

There was shouting behind him as he ran up the stairs and into the room that he was sharing with Hunk and Lance. When he pushed down on the lock, Keith grinned, looking down at all the newly accumulated candy he had. They had been going hard on their respective bags, but there was still at least two thirds in each. He pulled out a Snickers bar. A sweet victory.


End file.
